Tears
by Insanity's Pen
Summary: Grown men do not cry. China knew how much of a lie that statement was.


Tears

By: Insanity's Pen

Grown men do not cry. China knew very well that this statement was false. There comes a time when every grown man cries. Each has their own reason to do it, whether it was out of love, happiness, sadness, pain, anger or fear, it didn't matter. China himself had done it for all kinds of reasons.

China had cried out of happiness.

The day he found Japan he had been more than eager to bring him into his home and accept him as his own brother. Though Japan was a quiet and well behaved child, there were times when he put his shyness aside and found joy in running around childishly and having tickle fights with his self-proclaimed brother.

It was during one of these times that little Japan had finally managed to gain the upper-hand on China and had him pinned to the floor. His tiny hands ran all over the elder's sides eliciting uncontrollable laughter from him as he himself giggled uncontrollably. China laughed and laughed until his stomach hurt and tears streamed down his face.

China has cried out of relief.

Little Japan often enjoyed exploring the vast bamboo forests that surrounded China's home. Despite the elder's warnings, he let his curiosity get the best of him and decided to stray deeper into the thicket. He had been so engrossed in watching the exotic birds flying through the sky that he failed to notice a tangle of roots in his path until it was too late. His foot caught in the protruding root and he found himself tumbling forward and down a steep hill. He landed at the base of the hill with a loud _oof!_ He shook himself free of dirt and grass and tried to stand, but immediately fell once more as a jarring pain shot up into his ankle. He looked down and with a frown noticed that it was twisted. He sat there not knowing what to do. It was getting dark and he was getting scared.

China waited eagerly for Japan's return so they could make dinner together. He would not go searching for the boy just yet for he knew that if Japan was out a little longer than the allowed time, it meant he had found something interesting to observe and had simply lost track of time. But as the sun started to sink over the tops of the trees he began to worry. Where was Japan? Unable to keep his worry at bay he decided to search for him.

He strolled through the thicket and called out the boy's name in hopes of getting a response. His imagination began to run wild and he began running as he panicked. He ran frantically, determined to search every inch of the forest for Japan no matter how long it took.

It was fully dark when he had finally found the boy sobbing and curled up into a ball. He ran to the child and scooped him up in his arms, practically suffocating him with a hug.

"I'm so glad you're safe!" China said, tears of relief running down his cheeks. "I was so worried!"

Japan had settled down enough to tell China what had happened and promised to never disobey him again. China did not hesitate to forgive him as he carried his little brother back home.

China has cried out of sadness and pain.

China looked up from his spot on the ground into the cold eyes of Japan. The latter male was no longer a child but a strong young man. And said young man was currently pointing the tip of a dangerously sharpened katana into the elder's face. They locked eyes and a bitter silence encased them. The air was cold and the wind blew harshly.

"Japan…" China whispered the name weakly. He was already injured and didn't much have strength left in him. Gathering his last bit of strength, he shakily lifted a hand to grasp the tip of the sword. The blade cut into his fingers, letting the warm moisture run down his wrist. Japan pulled his weapon back and raised it high. China's still outstretched hand reached weakly to the man above him. His eyes pleaded the other to stop. A tense moment passed as the younger man's resolve seemed to waiver and he slowly lowered his blade to rest on the elder's back. China let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a bloodcurdling scream as Japan's blade sliced into his skin.

He felt the warmth of his own blood pool around him. The pain of the wound paralyzed him. He sobbed uncontrollably, but not from the wound. He cried out from the sadness of the feeling of betrayal. He cried out of pain from the feeling of loosing his dearest brother. No physical pain could compare to the emotional pain he now felt. He looked up into Japan's eyes and briefly wondered if what he had seen in them was regret before blacking out.

China has cried out of regret.

He placed his fingertips against the cold surface of the full length mirror. He gazed at his reflection with an empty expression. His eyes followed the contours of his bare torso and counted all the tiny scars that marred his skin. However many there were, none of them could ever compare the one on his back. It ran from the top of his left shoulder to his right hip. Physically it was already fully healed, but emotionally it would never heal. It wouldn't bleed, but it would ache and no amount of medicine would stop it from doing so. Silent tears stained his cheeks as the same thoughts ran through his head. _What had he done wrong? Was he unfair? Was he a bad brother? Did he hurt Japan somehow? Why did he do this?_

China did not know what he had done to make Japan do what he did, but he regretted it. He regretted making his brother leave him.

China has cried from anger.

When China learned that America had hurt Japan by dropping bombs upon his cities, China was outraged. He furious at America for doing such a thing and he was furious at himself for being unable to do anything about it. Silent tears poured from his eyes as he kicked yet another wall and yelled out his frustrations. Why was he so useless? Why couldn't he help his little brother? The questions swirled around in his mind much like the flurry of paperwork China had shoved off his desk. God he hated feeling like this. He felt so weak and it only served to infuriate him even more. He slumped against a wall and let the salty tears tumble down freely.

China had cried just for the sake of crying.

He'd often find himself gazing up at the darkened sky with tears in his eyes. He'd remember all the times he had spent caring and doting on Japan. He'd recall all the stories they'd shared, all the laughs and all the tears. The moon reminded him of that one night the two had shared discussing whether or not rabbits were making medicine on it or not. It was the night only a few days before the night Japan had left. He sighed a shaky sigh. Grown men do not cry. China knew how impossibly wrong that statement was. He was a grown man, strong and honorable. But that didn't mean he'd never cried. In fact, he was glad that he _did_ cry. With every tear that fell it was as though a tiny piece of his sadness and anxiety fell along with the tiny droplets. After all, if someone can cry it means that they aren't made of stone and that they really do care.


End file.
